Summer (Summer Solstice 2007 Festival)
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Lesbian, Heterosexual, DomSub, Swinging, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Exhibitionism, Size, Slow,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A married woman introduces her husband to a couple of friends as well as a new lifestyle.
The ringing phone jarred her from a deep sleep. The shrill noise first insinuated itself into her dreams as the call of a thousand unseen birds.
But it's unrelenting noise finally forced her eyes open.
She reached out in the darkness and found the receiver, lifting it to her pillow and her bleary eyed face.
"Good morning, my wife." The voice said in a calmly even keel.
"What time is it?" She felt her annoyance rising. She knew he had little of import to tell her and was probably just intending to upset her.
"Where you are?" He asked, she was about to let loose a smart-ass reply when he finished his own answer. "It should be just dawn now."
"And why did you wake me up at such an ungodly hour?"
There was along silent pause before he finally replied. "Your summer is almost over. You should be returning home soon."
Her annoyance grew even more heated now. "I'm well aware of that. I don't need the likes of you to remind me."
"Such venom." His voice dripped with sarcasm even over the tinny tone of the telephone. "I just wish you'd find a better place to spend your summers. A place more befitting your stature."
Her annoyance dimmed slightly, it was always the same old argument. All he cared about was his stature and his place in society, and the damage she might be causing to it with her juvenile, as he called them, antics.
"Why don't you come here and see?" She asked, challenging him. She was sure that he would refuse; he would never lower himself to this.
"You might manage to learn something." She added with a sarcastic tone of her own.
"Impossible." Was his immediate answer. "I have far too much work to attend to. Unlike you, I have responsibilities that I take seriously."
She laughed sarcastically at him, "There is nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. If you want to remain locked up in your marble palace, that's your choice, but don't try to blame it on your responsibilities."
"If I agree to this..." He started to say, long pauses between his words as if he was thinking while he spoke.
She was stunned into silence; she didn't expect him to even humor the idea. He was calling her bluff and waiting for her to back down in defeat.
"Then I want something in return." His tone was deadly serious now.
"What is it?" She asked with a fair amount of trepidation. Dealing with him when he got into a mood like this was always dangerous.
"If I spend a day with you, then I expect you to return home a week early."
She waited for a long moment before she answered, trying to determine if he had a trick somewhere hidden in his words.
"Deal." She replied slowly. "But that means that you do what I normally do and no complaining."
There was another brief pause and she waited for his inevitable refusal to her conditions. There was no way he'd agree to her terms. He might have called her bluff, but she was raising the stakes.
"Very well." Was his curt reply, the tone of annoyance thick in his voice.
"I go out for breakfast at 8." She informed him, matter of factly. "Be here before then."
She hung up the phone before he could reply, unconcerned with what ever he had to say.
She slid out of bed and walked naked to the covered window. She enjoyed the primal feeling of sleeping naked and did it whenever she could. The sensual feeling of the sheets against her bare flesh made her feel alive in a way she couldn't describe.
Standing bare in front of the window, she drew the shades open. The beams of dawn's light just barely seeping through the canyons of the city streets to fall on her pale skin. She picked this apartment in particular just because of its easterly view.
She felt no modesty as she stood revealed in front of the window. Closing her eyes as the sunlight caressed her. She was sure that there was more than one set of eyes watching her skin, and she enjoyed the attention.
She stretched her arms over her head, flexing her back and jutting her breast forward. She lowered her hands and drew her curly blonde hair back, behind her shoulders, making sure that there were no obstructions hiding her breasts from her unseen audience.
She felt the short hairs on the back of her neck bristle with lust. She could feel the eyes all on her. Male, female. Young, old. It didn't matter to her.
She slid her hands down her hips, spreading her legs slowly. Her fingers plowing slowly through the field of golden hair between her legs.
She imagined what her husband would say if he saw her doing this. No doubt that he would be even more upset.
And that excited her even more. She ran her fingers across her already moist lips and then brought the tips to her mouth. Her tongue licking the very essence of herself from her hand.
She was just about to return to her pussy when she spotted her phone.
She picked up the receiver and hit the first speed dial button, waiting for the connection to be made.
"Mom, you're never going to believe who just called me." She said with a faux pained sound of sarcasm. "My darling husband."
There was an exasperated sound of annoyance from her mother. "And what did the letch want this time?"
"Oh, the usual." She glanced at her nails as she replied, performing her disaffected act even though her mother couldn't see it. "Wants me to come home early again."
"You told him he could shove it up his uptight ass, I hope?" Her mother's voice seemed to quiver with anticipation, as if she was looking forward to an argument between her daughter and her son-in-law.
"Nope." She paused just long enough for her mother to make an assumption and start to grow angry.
"I asked him to join me for the day."
"You did?" The sound of her mother's surprise was almost palpable. "And what did he say?"
"He said yes."
Her mother was completely silent now, even more surprised by the agreement than the younger woman was.
"I just thought you might like to know." She added, breaking the silence. "And be sure to tell dad."
"I..." the older woman started to reply, still too shocked for worlds. "I will."
"Good." She glanced at the clock. "I need to go get ready before he gets here. Love you, mom."
She blew an exaggeratedly loud kiss into the receiver, and then hung up the phone.
He knocked with outright disdain on his wife's apartment door. He didn't understand why she wanted to live in such a place. The smell was abhorrent, the scent of sweat from too many bodies living in too small an area. He couldn't understand how anyone would be comfortable living on top of one another like this.
"You're late!" She shouted through the door.
He didn't bother to answer; it was beneath him to be seen in a hallway shouting.
The metallic snap of the dead bolt lock being retracted echoed in the hallway, followed by the jingling sound of the chain locked being unhooked. The sound disgusted him. To have to live in constant fear of intruders and uninvited guests. It just felt unnatural.
The door opened just an inch. "Come in."
He could hear her walking away from the door. Not opening it for him was probably a conscious choice to further insult him. Forcing him to open the door himself.
His disdain still high, he reached out and pushed the door open with just the tips of two fingers.
The room beyond the door was all that amounted to his wife's home away from home. She called it a flat, but he couldn't see how anyone would live in a place smaller than one of their closets back home.
"Are you going to come in?" She asked from the other side of the small room, just beyond the bed that almost filled the entire room.
He frowned as he watched her. He was sure she was doing this intentionally. Forcing him to degrade himself by entering.
Her hair was still wet and except for the towel she had half wrapped around her head, she wore nothing else. She knew that there was no way he'd leave the door open with her exposed like this.
"You're not even ready to leave." He said, annoyed as he stepped through the threshold. "So why is it a problem that I'm a few minutes less than punctual?"
"It's the principle, that's all." She picked through her small closet looking for the right attire for the day. "You're over dressed for a relaxing day out anyway."
She glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded towards the dark black suit, red tie, and polished leather shoes that he was wearing. His dark hair was, of course, immaculate. Still cut short and not with a strand out of place. His dark eyes were piercing into her, seeming to smolder with anger. His features were chiseled in their distinctiveness, which was fitting when compared to his normally cold emotions.
"And you're under dressed." He commented, crossing the room to shut the window shade. "Must you give this entire wretched city a show?"
"The people across the street are hardly the whole city." She sneered, avoiding the question all together. "Besides, I couldn't really pick out what I would wear until I knew what you were wearing."
She pulled a tan dress from the closet, one with a particularly plunging neckline. She wanted something appealing, but not too revealing.
She held the dress against herself as she stood in front the closet door mounted mirror.
He admired her from here, the smooth soft curve of her ass, the reflection of her full breasts, creamy white with their pale pink nipples. The slight bit of golden blonde hair peeking out from between her legs.
She still was everything that had beguiled him all those years ago. She still cut the same figure as she had when he decided that he had to have her.
He was so entranced by her beauty that he didn't even notice her looking backing at him from the reflection in the mirror. She said nothing, just allowing him to admire her.
For a moment she could see the man she fell in love with in his face. The caring, troubled man that he refused to let the world see.
"What do you think of this one?" She asked, shaking the dress slightly to draw his attention to it.
"That-" For a moment he found himself at a loss for words. "That one should do nicely."
In truth, he didn't think it suited her. She deserved something more impressive. Gilded in gemstones or precious metals, but he knew she'd never wear anything like that. She seemed always to be more comfortable in the plainer attire that she preferred.
"It wouldn't hurt you to try a pair of jeans once in a while." She said rhetorically as she pulled the dress over her head. "Or the horror of a pair of shorts."
He didn't even bother to dignify her words with a response. Instead stepping up behind her and tying the back of her dress closed.
It took him a second, but he realized that the shoulder straps crisscrossed between her shoulder blades and then tied to the lower portion, leaving the majority of her back exposed. The opening plunging all the way to the small of her back.
Only after the dress fell into place did she hike the hem up and step into a pair of white thong panties, shimmying her hips to slide them into place.
He thought about voicing a protest about her chosen attire, but knew it was likely to be pointless. She had already made up her mind and arguing with her about it would accomplish nothing.
Once the panties were in place, she let the dress fall back into place. The bottom hem only reaching to just a few inches above her knees.
She took a moment to admire herself in the mirror. Spinning in place as much for his benefit as hers.
After making a full turn and a half, she stopped to look at her husband again.
"Hungry?" She asked, distracting him way from his staring.
"Yes." He managed to speak with out too much of a mental hiccup. "I made reservations at-"
"Cancel them." She interrupted, crossing her arms in front of herself.
"What?" He looked at her, more than a bit surprised.
"I said," she repeated, her voice calm and even, as if she was speaking to a five year old. "Cancel them."
"But," he started to protest.
"No buts." She interrupted again, raising her voice slightly. "You agreed to do what I want. That means we eat where I choose."
He gritted his teeth as he stared at her, doing his best to hide his annoyance. He held the stare for a moment to see if she would back off.
"Very well." She didn't relent, he was stuck with it.
She walked to the flat door, stopping near it to slip a pair of brown, open toe sandals onto her bare feet. At the same time her hands pulled down a white purse that she slung under her arm with practiced ease.
"So then where are we going?" He asked, with a slight bit of trepidation.
"The park." She replied as she pulled the door open.
"What is this called again?" He asked, holding the plastic cup up so that he could look closer at the murky brown liquid that flowed inside it.
"It's a Grande Caramel Mocha Monterey Blast." The words rolled off her lips easily, even though they made little sense to him. "So you like it?"
He took another sip through the plastic straw as he considered his response. He let the sweet liquid sit on his tongue for a second before he swallowed.
"It isn't bad." He commented, frowning at having to admit that there might be some merit to her chosen breakfast.
"I'm impressed." She smirked as she looked at him, the straw of her own drink dangling from between her pink lips. "From you that's glowing praise."
He only grunted in reply, wanting the topic of conversation to move on as quickly as possible.
"See?" Her smirk faded slowly. "I still know what you like."
"And I," he seized on the chance to deflect the conversation somewhere else. "Still don't see what intrigues you about this place."
She glanced at him for a second, surprised that he still couldn't see it. She then looked around the bustling park for an example to point out to him. From their place sitting on the park bench they had a perfect view of the field beyond the gravel path in front of them.
Scattered around the verdant emerald green grass were all sorts of examples, young families out with their children, older retirees walking their dogs, young lovers laying in the grass and enjoying the morning.
Even on the path in front of them there were passing examples, virile joggers out for their morning exercise, young parents pushing strollers, even the occasional mounted horse complete with rider.
"Can't you feel it around you?" She looked back to her husband in disbelief. "All the life, all the energy, all the happiness."
She stressed the last part as being the most important of all. She was sure one of these examples would sway his thoughts.
"Yes." His voice was calm and unimpressed, as if it was all a given and nothing special. "So?"
"So?" She didn't know if she should be offended or sympathetic. Did this really not affect him at all? Could he have grown so cold as to not feel anything?
Then, like a bolt out of the blue, a thought came to her. Perhaps she had the reason for his state of mind.
"Just because we have no children of our own doesn't mean you have to despise the ones who have." Her voice was a soft whisper now. "You can still find joy in other people's happiness."
He made no effort to reply reply, his face remaining a stony, emotionless façade.
She shifted closer to him on the park bench, letting her hips touch his. A familiar yet still dignified contact. If he wanted to pursue it further, he would need to take the next step himself.
His eyes scanned the horizon slowly, trying to remain impassionate and constant. He took it in everything, but did his best not to show interest in any one thing in particular.
"Her?" She asked, out of the blue, surprising him. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, you always did prefer the darker haired women."
He glanced at her, still surprised at his wife's powers of observation. His gaze probably had only lingered on the woman in question for a quarter second longer than anyone else in his vision, but still she was able to perceive his interest.
She turned her head and looked back to the subject in question. Studying the woman for a moment before replying.
From a distance the young woman didn't look very impressive, just another mother out for a jog with their child. Her baggy blue jogging suit hid all of her body and her sunglasses hid her eyes. The ear bud headphones seemed to add an element of detachment to her appearance and her dark hair whipping behind her gave the appearance of a mare in motion.
She could be just about anyone and she wondered if that wasn't entirely the point of his interest in the anonymous woman.
"Why her?" She asked as she turned her attention back to her husband. Her head cocked slightly to the left like a dog attempting to understand its master.
He frowned as he glanced at his wife. He thought he had answers to give her, but he wasn't sure how to articulate them.
"It's the baby, isn't it?" She asked, her eyes narrowing now.
His reaction was stern and immediate, his eyes narrowing and growing cold, but flashing with an internal anger. He felt the rage to snap out and strike her for the implied insult. What did she think he was?
She didn't flinch from his reaction, either from lack of fear or just a misunderstanding to the level of his annoyance.
"She has had a baby already." She commented, still staring him. "That makes her fertile."
He stared at his wife, blinking slowly as his rage dissipated. She was right of course, but he didn't want to admit it.
He glanced up looking for the nameless woman, but she had already disappeared beyond the winding gravel paths of the park.
His wife smiled apologetically at him, laying her hand over the back of his hand.
"Know that if it was within my power," she said softly, "I would willingly give her to you."
As presumptuous and ego driven as her statement was he understood the underlying message of his wife's words.
Despite their separation and the assumptions the others had made about them, beyond the turbulence of their marriage and their almost constant bickering, even with the rocky start of their relationship and the disapproving of their families, he had never strayed from her.
He was sure she had, but he didn't mind that. He understood her need and was willing to forgive her. Despite where her body laid, he always knew where her heart resided.
Most importantly, no matter what the others might think and gossip about, their lack of children was not due to a lack of trying.
"Do you trust me?" She asked him after staring at her husband's face for a long moment.
It wasn't an easy question to answer. He didn't find it easy to trust anyone, not even his wife. Even she had her moments where she'd willingly abuse such liberties.
"For the moment," He replied slowly, a cautionary tone to his voice. "Yes."
She could sense the hesitation in her husband's voice, not that she blamed him.
"For today, I wish you would." She said, her voice more somber now. "You've trusted me enough to agree to today, I do not plan to abuse that trust."
He nodded an understanding. "Very well."
"Are you carrying your cell phone?" She asked him, her eyes glancing down at his belt.
He nodded, without having to double check it's presence.
"Then I'd like you to explore the city on your own for a bit."
He was about to protest, he had no desire to wander this cesspool of a metropolis like some sort of tourist. There was nothing here that he hadn't already seen before.
But she raised a hand, giving him a second's pause for the rest of her words.
"There's something I want to look into." Her voice was reassuring, like what ever this was, it was important. "I will call you when I'm ready."
With more than a small amount of reluctance, he nodded in agreement.
"Good." She smiled and leaned closer, kissing his cheek. "I promise you won't regret it."
He was quickly growing impatient. It had been hours since he last saw his wife and had still not received a phone call from her.
He had never had much of a desire to see the city that his wife decided to call her second home and now he was feeling even less interested in it.
He spent the first few hours just sitting on the park bench watching the people go by. It was easy to forget that was in he city when surrounded by the tranquil green of the park. He imagined that the city denizens must view this place as he did, an escape from the cement canyons that made up the rest of the city.
Once he grew tired of sitting, he began wandering the park, but finding little different than what he saw from the bench.
The scenery had changed, different trees, the occasional footbridge, a statue or a body of water, but these held little interest for him. He had seen much better examples of all of this.
He was really only interested in the people. The way they looked and interacted. But as the morning had worn on, there seemed to be fewer and fewer of them about.
The only thing that had distracted him for a moment was the swans. In particular a dark black cygnet that seemed to be struggling to keep up with the other's in its flock.
He felt an affinity for the bird and actually wished that he had some small scrap of bread to offer it. A small reward to give it for the troubles it had already endured as being different.
That completely contrasted against what had happened moments later as he ventured out of the park and onto the city streets. It wasn't more than a few blocks later that some scraggily bum asked him for pocket change.
The supposed wretch said that he wanted the money for something to eat, preying on the sympathies of others. But he could tell from the dazed look in his eyes that food was the last thing on the man's mind.
He restrained the urge to take out his frustrations on the man and just kept walking.
As he walked the streets he saw different
As he walked the streets he saw how different the people's interactions were as compared to the park. Bodies shuffling in and out of cavernous buildings, armored in dark suits and modest dresses. Glazed eyes being careful not to look at each other's faces. Like the legions of the dead marching on the cement sidewalks.
Again he had to wonder what his wife saw in this place that was so much better than their home.
His patience had worn thin enough that he was seriously considering just going home and breaking his promise to his wife.
His cell phone rang as if the woman could read his mind.
"Where are you?"
Her first question seemed to reaffirm her powers of mental perception.
He glanced up at the street sign at the far end of the black he was walking. "Madison and 32nd."
His voice was curt and precise, showing his lack of patience. He promised that wouldn't complain, but he didn't promise that he'd like it.
"Oh, you're in Midtown." She replied calmly, not seeming to notice his state of mind. "Come to 32 Spring Street and we'll have lunch. I have someone I want you to meet."
All the words that he could think of to reply were snide and impolite, so instead of saying anything he just grunted and hung up his cell phone. If his wife didn't recognize his annoyance now, then she never would.
He walked to the curb and flagged down a taxi. He had no interest in walking any further.
She stood in front of the restaurant as she waited for her husband's arrival. She would sense that he was annoyed, but refused to acknowledge it. She knew that if she did, she'd just fuel into his foul mood.
It didn't take very long for the yellow taxi to arrive and stop at the curb in front of her. Through the window she could see her husband finalizing the transaction, then reach for the door.
She took a step back as he stepped out, then moved forward to him as the taxi pulled away.
"Come on, they're waiting for us inside." She took his hand and gave it a gentle tug towards the front door of the restaurant.
"They?" He asked, questioningly, holding his footing for the moment.
"Yes." She replied matter of factly. "They're friends of mine that I'd like you to meet."
"Who?" He had a mixture of interest, hesitation, and annoyance. She had promised that he wouldn't regret trusting her, but he was already beginning to question the sanity of that.
"Friends of mine. I've known them for a few years." She frowned at him. "Just give them a chance. If you're not comfortable, you can leave and I'll still come home a week early."
He glanced at her for a second, gauging her sincerity and then nodded, following her lead towards the front door.
It was still easily an hour before lunch and the restaurant was still mostly empty. The smell of fresh garlic and basil hung in the air, giving the place a homely feel.
"They make the best pizza here." She commented off handedly. As she lead him through the maze of tables that made up the dining area. "You should try it."
He said nothing as she continued to lead him towards the back of the restaurant.
"We have a private room in the back." His wife commented, noticing his hesitation. "Like you they prefer their privacy."
He nodded slowly, understanding the sentiment.
She stopped in front of an open door and poked her head inside. "He's here." She announced to the unseen occupants.
He could hear movement beyond the door, but he was only able to see once his wife entered the room.
"Nice to meet you." A blonde man in a dark suit stood and extended his hand towards him.
"A pleasure." He replied, looking towards his wife for an introduction.
"This is my husband Paul." She said, still smiling. "This is Lawrence and his wife Victoria."
Paul glanced towards the dark haired woman that still remained seated at the table that dominated the small private room. She smiled up at him and seemed to be examining him far closely than he had expected. "Karen has told us quite a bit about you."
"My wife does enjoy her times here." Paul replied, not wanting to say that he knew nothing of the couple in front of him. "I, unfortunately, do not get the chance to visit often."
"Karen tells us that you're in the acquisition and import trade?" Lawrence said, rhetorically as he gestured to the other side of the table, motioning for Karen and Paul to sit.
"You could say that." Paul smiled, "A lot of odds and ends mostly. But the devil is in those details."
Lawrence laughed, obviously finding some humor in his new acquaintances words.
"We took the liberty of ordering a bottle of wine and some appetizers while we waited for you." Victoria smiled at Paul, her eyes still seeming to study him closer than he had expected.
He was unused to this kind of scrutiny, and wasn't sure what to make of it.
"So I understand that you're interested in swinging with us?" Lawrence casually said, after the door was safely closed, insulating their privacy.
Paul was surprised, and somewhat offended by the bluntness of the other man's words. He knew his wife engaged in these past times, but he had little interest in joining her.
But before he could voice his displeasure, his wife replied.
"Paul is new to this." Karen said softly, patting her husband's arm lightly, comfortingly. "I thought maybe we could just see how things happen."
Paul glanced at his wife for a moment; he could tell that this was all part of her plan. He wasn't sure if he should feel offended or not, but he was intrigued very so slightly.
He glanced to Victoria, to see her reaction, and was surprised to see that she seemed to be somewhat disappointed. It was a reaction that he wasn't accustomed to; he had expected her to be relieved at his perceived lack of interest.
"I apologize." Lawrence's voice sound genuinely embarrassed, as if he was just as ill informed about Karen's plans as Paul had found himself to be.
"No, no need." Paul waved a hand, dispelling the thought. The other man's apology did more to assuage Paul's insulted pride than anything his wife could have said.
An uncomfortable silence fell in the small room, finally broken by Karen's voice.
"Did you bring pictures of your children with you?" Karen asked, the request seemed to float in the middle of the room, out of place and awkward for a second. Then she glanced at her husband. "We've been trying to have some of our own for years now. And I did mention yours to Paul."
The truth was, Paul had no idea what his wife was speaking of. But he managed to conceal his confusion for the moment, to see what she was playing at. If she was just intending to make small talk.
Karen turned and looked across the table, leaning closer to whisper in a mock conspiratorially way. "Paul doesn't think we can enjoy these pastimes and still raise a nice, stable family."
"It's not easy." Victoria laughed, dispelling any discomfort as she rooted in her person and pulled out a small plastic accordion of pictures. She unfolded it on the table, spinning it so that they were right side up for Paul and Karen.
"That's John, our boy. He's seven now and just started school." Victoria rolled her eyes in a slightly exasperated way. "My god, every morning is like an ordeal with him. He just wants nothing to do with school at all."
Paul stared at the picture, trying not to show too much interest. He wasn't sure what the proper amount was, but he just felt envious now. The dark haired boy looked like an imp in the posed picture, bright red cheeks, eyes that seemed to glimmer with mischievousness. He couldn't help but feel envious.
"And this," Victoria's finger shifted to the right now, following the train of pictures. "Is Cassy, she's our baby."
Paul could see Victoria's face start to glow as she gazed down at the picture, the pride and joy was almost palpable as it flowed out of her.
The little girl, Cassy, couldn't be older than four or five. And if her older brother was an imp, this child looked like an angel. Bright blonde hair, tiny little features, and a face that just beamed happiness and wonder.
Paul snapped his eyes away from the pictures, searching for the right words to respond with. "You have a beautiful family."
His eyes focused on Victoria, the compliment directed solely towards her.
"Thank you." Lawrence replied, not out of any sort of sense of insult. He seemed oblivious to the fact that Paul didn't consider his contribution to the feat to be very important.
"We've been trying to have our own for a few years now." Karen replied, patting her husband's hand again. "I think he's a little jealous."
"I'm sure you'll have your own soon." Victoria said sympathetically, her tone was the sound of one that understood but could do nothing to help another's plight. As if she could see Paul's state of mind.
There was a light knock at the door before it opened again. A waitress stepped through carrying plates and a wine bottle.